


Practice Makes Perfect

by PenguinofProse



Series: Smutty Saturdays [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Clarke Escapes the Praimfaya, Bellamy finds a sex book, Choking, F/M, Lots of it, Oral Sex, Sex Education, Smut, Smut and Fluff, they're practising together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26546611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinofProse/pseuds/PenguinofProse
Summary: In which Bellamy asks Clarke an unexpected favour, and it turns out he has been reading a rather interesting book.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: Smutty Saturdays [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930432
Comments: 67
Kudos: 363
Collections: Bellarke smut





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to smutty Saturday! Here we've got a happy alternate reality where Clarke makes it to the Ring with the others in Praimfaya. Huge thanks to Stormkpr for betaing this. Happy reading!

There's not much to do in space.

That's why Clarke is currently sitting up in her bed, pretending to read a battered novel, and wondering whether Raven needs help with literally anything. It's been an odd change of pace, these last couple of months since Praimfaya. Clarke knows she ought to have used the time for healing and making peace with everything that happened, but she's still struggling to do that. She prefers to be kept busy, really.

When there's a knock at the door she almost jumps for joy. Finally, someone wants her to do something.

"Come in." She calls, eager.

It's Bellamy who sticks his head around the door, and she brightens even further.

"What can I help you with?" She asks, already swinging her legs out of bed.

To her surprise – and confusion – he doesn't answer right away. He's still dawdling at the door, his jaw tense.

"Bellamy?"

"Can I come in? I want to ask you about something."

She frowns. She invited him in only seconds ago – she remembers that clearly. Why does he look so... flustered? She nods, firmly, beckons him to sit beside her on the bed.

He doesn't sit beside her on the bed. He enters the room, closes the door, and then paces in the small space before her as he talks.

"I've been reading this book." He begins, which shouldn't be a surprise. But the tone he says it in tells her this was not a work on Roman emperors.

"Yes?" She prompts him, growing nervous at his strange attitude.

"It's a book about sex. Sort of a... how-to guide for better sex. And there's this whole chapter about giving oral to a woman that was really interesting. And so – so I'd like to practise. With you. If you want to, of course."

She gapes at him, stunned. He read a book about giving oral and thought of her? Is this a dream? Has she accidentally walked straight into one of her own fantasies?

He prattles on before she can answer. "It's just – Harper and Emori are taken. I don't trust Echo. And I slept with Raven one time before and she wasn't impressed – I don't think my pride can take asking her again." He gives a stiff chuckle, demonstrates to her that he was trying to make one of his little nervous jokes, there.

Clarke's heart sinks. This isn't one of her fantasies – this is a practical suggestion, based on lack of other available options.

All the same, she's going to agree to it. Of course she is – this is _Bellamy_. And anyway, there's not much to do in space.

"Sure. We can practise together, if you want to." She says, as if they're talking about chess or playing piano, not sex.

Bellamy's jaw loosens, and he grins a relieved grin. "Great. You want to try now? Or make plans for later?"

"I'm free now." She says.

She's been free for almost every waking hour of the last week, after all. And the notion of _making plans_ to have Bellamy practise his oral skills on her is a little intimidating. She thinks it's probably best to get on with this before she can overthink it. After all, overthinking things is what she does best.

On that note, she gets on with asking him a lot of logistical questions. They maybe come out sounding slightly frantic, a bit like babbling, she fears. "How is this going to work? Do you want me on the bed? Dressed or undressed? Should we set ground rules? Will there be kissing?"

She wants there to be kissing. She wants it so badly she can feel the words dancing on the tip of her tongue. But she senses that kissing Bellamy could be dangerous – addictive, even – and could be a little too close to putting her heart on the line.

"There will be kissing." He states, firm, then darts his eyes to hers as if panicked. "I mean, if that's OK. It'll be better if we kiss for a bit first. The book is clear on that."

"Of course." If the book says they have to kiss, then naturally they must kiss. If Bellamy is determined to take his practice so seriously, Clarke is more than happy to match him.

"Great."

There's a loaded pause. Bellamy stops his pacing, stares at her, hard. Clarke isn't quite sure how this works now – how does she go from _agreeing_ to oral with the best friend she's somewhat in love with, to actually _doing_ it?

She kisses him. He did say there should be kissing, after all. So she presses her lips to his, slowly but decisively. He gets the idea, thankfully. He kisses her back, unhurried but insistent, bringing a hand up to cradle her cheek.

"This OK?" She pulls away briefly to ask him.

"Yeah. We should kiss for a bit to, you know, get in the mood and that."

She supposes that's what he read in his book, but she wonders about telling him he's wasting his time. She's been in the mood almost since the moment he walked in here, and definitely since the moment he said he wanted to go down on her.

All the same, she keeps kissing him. She's not sure whether she'll ever have another chance to kiss Bellamy, so it seems sensible to make the most of it while it lasts.

When it shifts from kissing to something more like _making out_ , it's Bellamy who leads the way. He starts running his hands over more of Clarke's skin, then up her shirt and over her back. She gets the idea, allows herself to explore his toned shoulders. Again, it seems to her that it's worth making the most of this while she has the chance.

"You doing alright?" He asks softly.

"Yeah. Great." She tries not to sound too overwhelmingly enthusiastic, and probably fails.

"Do you think we're ready to move on?"

She pulls right back to look him in the eye, brow quirked in challenge. "You're the one who's practising. You tell me."

He laughs. She likes the way he laughs when she argues back – she's pretty sure it's a specific laugh, actually, that he saves for exactly that and no other occasions. It makes her feel like she's special to him, perhaps, and that what they share is something unique.

"Let's try it. But let me know if you need to me to stop, yeah?"

She nods. And then, because she's a rather practical sort of a woman, she undoes her belt and tugs her trousers and underwear down her legs. Bellamy averts his eyes, which makes her giggle slightly. That's the first time since they started kissing that he's actually bothered looking awkward. And then she pauses, hesitant. If this were a real, meaningful sexual encounter built on mutual attraction, she'd want the rest of her clothes off, and Bellamy's too. But if this is only practice, and he only needs access to her genitals, is she supposed to undress completely?

"Is this OK?" She asks him, in the end.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure."

There's another pause.

"You could maybe take your socks off." He suggests, apparently physically incapable of looking her in the eye as he makes the suggestion.

She does take her socks off. Not because she follows orders from Bellamy as a general rule, but because she finds herself strangely tempted to be compliant, in this moment. If she's helpful and accommodating and does what he asks, might he be more interested in trying this again some time? She sort of hopes he might choose to practise with her again, if she's a good test subject today.

Socks removed, she lies down on the bed, legs spread, and waits for whatever happens next.

What happens next is _a lot_ , it turns out. Bellamy settles between her legs and then all at once his tongue is at her clit and his fingers are poking at her entrance and it's all a bit much, really.

She flinches away, surprised. The girls at the dropship always raved about his skills, and he's even gone and read a book about the matter since then. Why is he suddenly attacking her like this?

"Sorry." He mutters, head ducked.

"No, it's OK. Just wasn't expecting that. Maybe – start slower?"

He nods. She flushes at the mere sight of him, there, curls bobbing as he nods with his head between her legs. She's going to dream sweet dreams tonight.

The second approach is a bit more reasonable. He starts with his tongue again, but this time he gives her a moment to get used to the sensation before his fingers join the party. When he said he wanted to practise his oral on her, she didn't realise he meant anything quite so... full on as this. She didn't realise she'd be full of his thick fingers, his strong hand grinding against her, as well as his tongue dancing on her clit.

She's not sure what to make of it. In some ways, it's really good. She can tell he's read a book – he's pressing all the right buttons, all at once, so thoroughly that it's almost overwhelming. But she cannot help but feel that he's not reading _her_ very well. She prefers a slower buildup, more time to enjoy the moment. She's feeling almost overstimulated here from how quickly he's just dived straight in. She wonders about saying something, but she's not sure what she would say. This isn't _bad_ , not at all. And he did only want to practise, so boring him with tips about her personal preferences probably isn't very useful right now. He's presumably more interested in feedback as to whether his technique is sound which, to be fair, it absolutely is.

Her orgasm creeps up on her quickly, but it doesn't crash over her as some colossal wave. It's there, and it's pleasant, but it's a little weaker than she's used to. She's just not had long enough to get really wound up.

And then Bellamy raises his head from between her legs, looks up at her, and it hits her all over again. This is him. Bellamy. Her closest friend in the world, who she's a little in love with. And he just gave her a very competent but slightly underwhelming orgasm.

"How was that?" He asks, chin wet and eyes nervous.

She swallows. "Good."

"Is that all the feedback I'm getting?" He's trying to tease, but he looks even more nervous now.

"Sorry. It must be a good book. You really know what you're doing. It was great. It's only – I guess I prefer a slower build up. Fewer things at once. And just a bit... calmer, you know? More relaxed. It felt like you were trying too hard."

The look that spreads over his face is one she has never seen him wear before. It's clearly not a happy expression, but beyond that, she cannot entirely make it out. Is he embarrassed? Annoyed that he wasted his time? Frustrated with her less-than-useful feedback?

"Sorry." She repeats, helplessly. "You really are good."

He shakes his head. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have communicated better with you."

She waits a moment for him to say the book recommends communication, but it seems that they're talking about Bellamy and Clarke right now, not this mysterious manual. She therefore presses on.

"That's OK. Honestly, it was a good way to spend an afternoon." She tries to tease. He brightens a little, so she tries for some more conversation. "Why are you reading a book of sex instructions, anyway?"

He shrugs. "There's not a lot to do in space, is there? And I like reading."

"And you like sex." She presses, reaching out to poke him with a bare toe. She's still naked from the waist down, but she decides that's fair. He's still on his elbows between her legs.

He grins slightly. It doesn't quite look like his usual easy grin, but it's progress. "Yeah. You're right. You should let me know if ever you need to get off, because it sounds like I need more practice."

"I'm always ready to help you practise." She says lightly, as if this is no big deal. As if they're not currently negotiating making this some kind of regular arrangement.

"Yeah?" He asks, still really rather close to her crotch.

"Yeah. I mean, maybe not right now. But later or another day." She'd tell this man almost anything, she thinks, but she's not quite ready to tell him she's usually done after coming once.

"Sounds good."

He scoots back off the bed, stands up. He finds her clothes and tosses them to her, smiling slightly. She supposes that this is them done, now. Their unexpected new hobby, over for the day.

"You doing anything this afternoon?" He asks, carefully casual, as he wanders to the door.

"Not really." There's not much to do in space. She seems to remember that has already been mentioned.

"You want to watch a movie or something?"

This is dangerous territory, she thinks. Since they came back to the Ring, it is true that the two of them do seem to have become friends who hang out watching movies together, just the pair of them. But if they're particular friends who are now also practising their oral together, does that mean something a little different?

She doesn't know. But she's rather fond of Bellamy, so she agrees to watch a movie all the same.

…...

Their second practice session is scarcely twenty-four hours later. This time they watch the movie first, and when the credits roll, Bellamy turns to her with a grin. It's not a very convincing grin – there's a nervous tension in his jaw that makes it more of a grimace. In fact, the whole ensemble has her guessing what he's about to ask before he's even asked it.

"You up for giving me another chance to practise?" He says lightly.

"Yeah, always. Your place or mine?" That probably sounded too eager, but it can't be helped now.

"Mine is closer."

They don't speak as they walk down the hallway. They don't often spend time in silence together, and it feels odd. But Clarke cannot bring herself to discuss what they're about to do, and it would feel silly to make trivial conversation about something else in this moment. So it is that the silence stretches on.

They arrive at Bellamy's room, and he closes the door behind them. Clarke steps forward, ready to make a start on the kissing.

But Bellamy has a question to ask, it turns out.

"So – what do you prefer? You said yesterday that it wasn't quite how you like it."

She shakes her head. "It was fine. It was _good_. We're here so you can practise what you've read so, really, just do what you think."

Now he's shaking his head. "No, Clarke. There's no point practising if it's not good for my partner, is there? And maybe you have something to teach me that the book doesn't cover. Today we're going to do it how you like it."

She frowns, considering. "You want that?"

"Yeah. Tell me exactly what you like." He insists.

Convinced, she tells him. "I liked the kissing last time. I always like to start with lots of kissing. But then I guess I'd have us take more clothes off? It felt kind of silly, you being fully dressed. I could feel your T shirt against my legs and it wasn't as nice as skin."

He nods, a thoughtful expression on his face. She gets the distinct impression that mentally he's taking notes.

She gathers her courage and gets to the more intimate part. "I prefer it when there's... less going on. If I'm being really honest I'd want you to more or less sit there and I grind against your face. My clit's really sensitive so that was... it was a bit much." She concludes.

"OK. Let's try that." He agrees.

And then, just as there was yesterday, there's a heavy pause.

But this time it's Bellamy who breaks it. It's Bellamy who steps forward, starts kissing her, tangles his hands in her hair. This, she thinks, is a promising start.

It gets better and better, after that. They undress each other, which ought to be awkward but somehow isn't. She always expected things to be awkward if ever they got to this point, and she's beyond happy to be proven wrong. And he's so gentle with her, so much calmer and slower than yesterday, that she's already thoroughly aroused by the time he lies her back on the bed and settles between her legs.

He follows her instructions to the letter – maybe even a little _too_ well. After all his trying-too-hard of yesterday, it's a bit odd to have him just lying there and gently stimulating her with his tongue alone. But it's what she likes, normally – it's strangely familiar, even if he is an unfamiliar partner – and so she's having a good time. She draws it out for a while, holding back, until eventually she lets loose and bucks her hips against his face a few times.

The orgasm is more satisfying today. The build up was better, there was more tension to break. It's been a success, she decides.

But then she looks down at Bellamy, who's just raising his head to meet her eyes, and wonders if that's true. He doesn't look like he feels very successful.

"You OK?" She asks him, concerned.

"Yeah." He lies brightly. At least, she's pretty sure it's a lie. "Was that better?"

"Yeah. I really enjoyed the longer build up." She tells him honestly.

He smiles a little. "Good."

She bites her lip, nervous. There's a question she knows she needs to ask but she's worried it will cross a line, blur the boundaries of what they're doing here.

"How was it for you?" She asks at last.

For a moment, she thinks he will not answer. But then he proves her wrong, and she's glad of it.

"Honestly? Kind of strange." He looks away, jaw tense. "It's just not how I'm used to doing it, I guess. Even before I read that book I've always been more... active? I want to feel like I'm bringing someone pleasure. I didn't feel like I was doing a lot there. I felt like I was making you do all the work."

He stops talking, but she knows he's not done. She can see him working up his courage.

"I felt kind of left out. Even though I was right there. I know that sounds silly." He murmurs, awkward.

"That's not silly at all. Maybe there's a middle way." She suggests carefully. "Maybe you could try some of your techniques but just not all at once? And build up slower?"

"Yeah. Maybe we should try that another time." He offers, still not meeting her eye.

"I'm up for that." She reaches for her clothes, makes a start on dressing. "You want to learn how to play chess?"

He does turn to look at her then, rolling his eyes. "I'm going to have to be a lot more bored than this before you talk me into learning that game."

…...

The third time is perfect.

Clarke's a bit annoyed about that. She realises that as soon as it's perfect, Bellamy will not need to practise any more. She briefly considers lying about it, so that he'll keep eating her out. But that seems deceptive and manipulative in the extreme, so she just lies back and tries to let her orgasm build as slowly as possible.

It's damn good, this. There's enough going on to be thoroughly pleasurable, but she doesn't feel overwhelmed. And Bellamy's being so tender and gentle, quite unlike his more _determined_ first attempt.

She's almost disappointed when she comes. Almost. Mostly she's just stunned.

"I take it that was better?" Bellamy asks, cheeky, peeking up from between her legs.

She doesn't even try to hold off the inevitable, in the end. She just nods, eager, grinning at him.

She supposes she ought to make conversation. If she doesn't make conversation, he'll leave. And if he leaves now then he'll probably never come back and practise oral with her again, now he's got it perfect.

Only he doesn't leave. He lies next to her on the bed, stark naked. She hasn't given herself time to appreciate his nakedness before now, not really. He's mostly been between her legs, after all. But now he's at her side it's all too easy to notice the firm planes of his chest and that frankly distracting cock of his.

"Can I borrow the book?" She hears herself ask. She's not sure what she's thinking – she's not sure if she's thinking at all, which is worrying, considering she's usually so proud of her capacity for rational thought. Maybe she's planning to try out some of these same techniques on Raven, or something. She can think of worse people to hook up with.

"Sure. If you want. There's a lot in there – penises as well as vaginas. You can let me know if ever you want someone to practise with." He says, tone a little too careful to be truly casual.

"Oh, that's cool. I thought it was only about oral on vaginas." This conversation perhaps ought to be awkward, but since they started practising together, it hardly seems noteworthy at all.

"No, there's chapters on pretty much anything you can think of. Even some kinky stuff." He says lightly.

She rolls over to face him. "Go on, then. Which kinky parts did you like?"

He doesn't answer the question, but he does turn to face her. "Read it first and then we'll talk." He tells her, teasing.

She feels her heart do a little hiccup in her chest. This is real, isn't it? This is happening. She gets it now – they're not doing this by accident, or out of convenience, or even only to practise. She's the person Bellamy chose to share his sex book with, and it strikes her in this moment that this is a very good thing indeed.

She gathers her courage. She likes to think of herself a reasonably brave woman, and she knows she can do this.

"I know I haven't read it yet, but I could start practising now." She suggests, scooting towards him a little.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I could suck you off. You can give me some advice along the way." She offers, already snaking her hand down to his cock.

He grins. "We could try that."

She doesn't hesitate. She leans in, kisses him full on the lips. She wants to do that at least once more before she goes and pays attention to his cock. He seems determined to keep her at his lips a little longer than that, though. They make out lazily for a couple of minutes before she pulls away and moves down the bed.

She doesn't have a lot of experience of cock-sucking, so she wasn't entirely joking when she invited Bellamy to give her feedback. He either realises that or is just a very helpful guy, because he does a lovely job of telling her how she's doing without embarrassing her. He does it by making these wonderful noises – a moan when it's good, a groan when it's really good, a low growl when he's losing his mind.

He seems to be losing his mind a lot.

She can see, now, why people enjoy this so much. Giving really is at least as good as receiving, she decides. She loves being able to make Bellamy happy in this way, loves feeling him relax and accept the pleasure she's gifting him. But she has to admit that most of all she loves the power, the knowledge that she has this ability to make him fall apart beneath her lips and hands. It's pretty incredible, and it makes her wonder if she might be able to muster a second orgasm when this is through, if he should happen to offer.

It doesn't last long. Bellamy gives another one of those growls, and then he's spilling down her throat, salty and hot and so much of it she almost chokes. She wouldn't necessarily mind choking on Bellamy's come, she decides. She can think of worse ways to go.

Huh. She wonders if one of the kinky chapters is about that.

She decides that is a question for another time. For now, she crawls up the bed and settles herself across Bellamy's chest. If they're going to pleasure each other and read kinky books together and keep practising, she thinks they're probably at the stage where a little naked snuggling is acceptable.

He agrees. She can tell that because he holds her close, arms wrapped tight around her torso, hands stroking over as much skin as he can reach.

"You don't need to read the book." He tells her, hoarse. "You've already got it perfect."

She snorts. "Does this book even exist? Or did you just want an excuse to sleep with me?" She asks him, emboldened by her cock-sucking success.

He laughs and presses a kiss to the crown of her head. "It exists. Chapter eight is about threesomes. I don't think I want you to read that one."

"You don't? But I thought you were into that? Roma and Bree -"

"Are you going to make me spell it out, Clarke?" He interrupts her, impatient.

"Spell what out?" She suspects she knows what he's getting at, but she cannot resist teasing – or possibly fighting a little last-minute nervousness.

"I'd like it to be just us. You and me. Together."

"Not just sleeping together?" She checks, because she has to be sure.

"Not just sleeping together. _Being_ together."

"That sounds good." She says.

Not _that sounds like it would be good_ , or even _could_ be good. Because she knows already that it's good. After all, they've been together for the last year or so, more or less. The fact that they've only just started sleeping together or defined their relationship seems somehow insignificant, because they've basically been practising _being together_ since almost the very beginning.

And if there's one thing she knows, it's that practice makes perfect.


	2. Chapter two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't planning to write a second chapter for this, but this happened! Huge thanks to Stormkpr for betaing it. Happy reading!

Bellamy thinks things are going well with Clarke. He _hopes_ they're going well. They've been together for a few weeks now, and they kiss a lot and laugh a lot and have sex a lot, so that seems to him like a pretty happy relationship. She says she's really happy every time he asks, which has to be a good sign.

But there's one thing that's bothering him.

He loaned Clarke that sex book weeks ago – the morning after they got together, in fact. And she seemed really excited to take it and promised to start reading it right away. But since then? Nothing. Crickets. He believes that was a relevant idiom, back on Earth before the bombs.

He just doesn't understand what's happened. He's seen Clarke tear through a novel in a few hours. Sure, she doesn't typically read as much non-fiction as he does, but he cannot honestly believe she hasn't finished the book yet. And that leaves only one other option – that she has finished it, but doesn't want to talk about it.

That would be fine, of course. The sex they have is good. It's great – perfect, even, because Clarke is involved and he adores her, so her wholehearted participation is all he needs to have a good time.

He just really wants to know why she hasn't mentioned the book.

He can't believe that she's embarrassed. This is Clarke – she's the most confident person he knows. Although it does occur to him that she might not be so confident about sex as she is about other things. They haven't really been together long enough for him to have worked that out, yet.

There's a more worrying explanation, of course. What if she's freaked out? He was positively evangelical about how great the book was and how many cool things from it he wanted to try. What if she's read it, and she's completely grossed out by the implication that he's into some of the stuff it discusses? What if she's second guessing her choice to start a sexual relationship with him?

There's only one way to figure it out, he decides. He needs to find a good moment, find a most particular kind of courage, and ask her.

…...

He chooses to bring it up one morning, as they lie cuddled in bed together. They've just started the day with a sweet, lazy hand job, and he figures they're both feeling relaxed and comfortable.

"How are you getting on with the sex book?" He comes straight out and asks it.

She stiffens – only a little, but it definitely happens. "OK."

He hugs her tight and presses on. "Yeah? Anything you found particularly interesting?"

"There were a lot of things I'd be up for trying." She hedges.

He breathes a none-too-discreet sigh of relief. It sounds like she's more nervous than freaked out. This is good. He can work with this.

"Me too." He agrees, hoping his tone sounds encouraging. "Honestly, I think I'd be up for pretty much anything if you were excited about it."

"Yeah?" She checks, somewhere between excited and tentative, he thinks.

"Yeah. Any ideas on what you want to try first?"

There's a pause. He hears her suck in a breath, realises that she genuinely is very nervous about this. He presses a kiss to her forehead, runs a gentle thumb over the skin of her shoulders. He wants to show her that he'll still be here, no matter what she says in the next few seconds. He's not about to be scared off by any kink she might choose to share.

"I want you to choke me." She mutters. "Not – not hard. I've never tried it before so I don't want to start out too... hardcore. But – but you have great hands and I've always liked your arms and I think – I think I'd really get off on feeling you hold me down. On you being strong, you know?"

He's surprised. He doesn't mind admitting it. It's not something that really struck him as a natural place to take their relationship – he's always been more instinctively interested in Clarke taking charge.

He hesitates a moment too long.

"Bellamy? Are you -"

She is interrupted by a knock at the door, and a panicked shout.

"Guys! We need you. We need all the hands we can get. I need to put a patch up on deck C. We're leaking oxygen!" It's Raven, and it sounds bad. Leaking oxygen? Surely that's potentially deadly, when they live in a tin can in space?

At once, Bellamy and Clarke jump out of bed and start throwing on clothes. Duty calls, and romance must wait. Bellamy rather hoped they'd left that tendency behind when they left the ground, but it seems that their responsibilities are determined to keep following them.

…...

It turns out it's more complicated and slightly less deadly than Raven's first words implied. They're not literally leaking oxygen into the depths of space, but the oxygenator and a patch of wall have indeed been damaged, and she needs their help patching things up.

It doesn't take long, with the hands of the whole crew at work. And when they're done, Bellamy thinks he might get a chance to check in with Clarke and finish that conversation that was so frustratingly interrupted.

It doesn't happen.

"Let me take a look at that cut, Emori." Clarke offers.

"It's not deep."

"I know. But it's not clean, and I don't want it to get infected. Come on."

As Clarke leads Emori down the hallway to their makeshift med bay, Bellamy is struck by the distinct impression that she is avoiding him.

…...

She keeps avoiding him for the rest of the day, and he hates it. He's got used to having Clarke at his side almost every minute of every hour, but today she is absent more often than not. She keeps finding specifically one-person chores to do – reorganising their medical supplies, or cleaning the women's bathrooms, or laundering her underwear.

At least it gives him a chance to think – or more accurately, to fantasise. He just cannot stop hearing those words she said this morning, endlessly replaying through his mind. Her soft, nervous voice as she told him she wants to be held down, wants to feel his strength, likes his hands and arms.

She wants him to choke her.

It's exciting, OK? He didn't expect to be excited by it, because he has historically been more excited by the idea of her putting him in his place. But the idea that she wants to be vulnerable beneath his hands has his cock twitching every time he so much as thinks of it. He can just imagine how soft her throat would feel beneath his fingers, can imagine the trusting look in her eyes as she would gaze up at him.

Damn it. Here he is, trying to read the Iliad, but rock hard and thinking of Clarke instead.

He needs to go find her. He needs to tell her he wants to choke her.

No. That might not sound right – too violent and brusque. He needs to tell her that he wants to make her fantasies of being choked come true? No, too wordy and sappy.

Whatever. He'll work it out.

He finds her in a storage closet on deck B. It's not clear what she's doing here, exactly, only that it's unnecessary and is a transparent excuse to avoid him.

"Hey." The word comes out hoarse, so her clears his throat. "I've been looking for you."

She looks like a cornered animal, he thinks, as she searches for a way out. He doesn't like it. This is Clarke – confident, capable Clarke. It's kind of humbling, to realise he has the power to make her nervous like this.

The whole choking thing must be important to her, he realises. And above all, their relationship must be important to her.

She starts edging past him, heading for the door. "Can't chat. I have to -"

"Clarke." He stops her with a sharp tone, and with his fingers looped tight around her wrist. Not tight enough to hurt, of course, nor even tight enough to actually keep hold of her if she really does want to leave.

But tight enough to show her he means business. Tight enough to show her, too, that he could do a good job of choking her, if only she would stay still long enough for them to work it out. Tight enough to promise everything she wants – a taste of things to come.

"Bellamy?" Her voice comes out hoarse, nervous. Questioning.

He goes for it. He kisses her, hard and fast, biting softly at her lower lip and demanding her attention. He wants to show her that there's no need to spend the day running away from him, but there's something else going on here, too.

He wants to show her he can chase her. That he'll do that, and more, if that's what she wants from him.

She kisses him back eagerly, melts into his arms. This is better, he decides. This is familiar ground – Clarke in his embrace, kisses growing heated. But the thing is, he wants to make it less familiar, put a bit of a spin on it. That's what they're aiming for, right? They're trying to spice things up a little.

He gathers his courage.

"You going to stop running away from me now?" He growls against her lips.

She likes that. He can tell. She whimpers into the kiss, clings to him ever more desperately.

He pulls away. He breaks her hold on his waist and wrist, breaks the kiss. She makes a little whining noise, but doesn't attempt to argue with him. It seems she is determined to play her part, too.

He spins her round, firmly but not roughly. She moves willingly, only casting him a quick, questioning glance.

"Be good for me." He says, half plea, half warning.

She nods. She lets him turn her round, lets him drag her close to him, her back pressing against his front.

And then he clasps a hand around her throat.

"This OK?" He has to ask. He hopes it doesn't come across as breaking character, or killing the mood they've got going here. But it's important to him to check.

"Mhmm." She agrees quietly.

He keeps his hand on her throat, angles her head so he can kiss down the back of her neck. She's making quite a lot of little mewling sounds, which he figures has to be a good thing. There's something about the vulnerability she's showing him here which is really shooting straight to his cock, but he forces himself to keep concentrating. He can't afford to get distracted. He needs to focus on making Clarke feel safe.

"You can press a little harder." She tells him – more instruction than suggestion. That makes him smile into her hair. Of course, even while he is so ostensibly taking the lead, she has to insist on remaining somewhat in charge.

He does what she asks, applies slightly more pressure to her neck. He likes this, likes having her pressed against him and trusting him so utterly, but it's quite a lot, too. He thinks that if she asks him to press any harder he'll probably say no, for today. He wants to get a bit more practice and feel a bit more confident before he contemplates actually restricting her airflow. He doesn't want to hurt her – taking care of her will always be his absolute priority.

This is going pretty well, he thinks, as semi-planned seductions in storage closets go. She's thoroughly melted in his arms, squirming such that her hips are rubbing over his half-hard cock. Gaining confidence, buying into her fantasy, he decides to do something about that.

He sets a firm hand on her hip, effectively holding her still. She makes an urgent whining noise, and he stills nervously.

"OK?" He checks.

"Mhmm."

Well, then. Apparently that was a happy whining noise. That's good to know.

He slides his hand from her hip to her waistband, unfastens her trousers. It's all too easy to slip his fingers under her panties and inside of her – she's flatteringly wet, and that's great, but she's also easing herself towards him as best as she can while he holds her tight.

She's pretty wound up already, of course, so she starts twitching her hips towards his hand as soon as he gets to work. He takes her hint, gives her a little more pressure, invites her to grind against the heel of his hand. And yet at the same time he's still holding her throat fast, gripping carefully with his fingers – just the perfect balance of firmness and tender care. He keeps kissing the back of her neck, too, and tries his best to keep concentrating on making her feel safe even as his excited erection does its best to distract him.

She comes quickly, hard, clenching around his fingers. He's not entirely new to this – they've played around with using their hands on each other quite a lot, since they got together. But he's new to this exact position, new to feeling her long throaty sigh beneath his fingers where they clasp her neck. And he's new to the way she sags against him, utterly relaxed and spent, when she's done. It feels more complete, somehow, than any orgasm he's guided her through before. It's as if she's thoroughly collapsed in his arms.

He pulls his hand out of her underwear and curls it around her waist – partly because he thinks that seems like a caring and romantic thing do to, but largely because she appears to need help staying upright, just now.

"OK?" He asks, slightly loosening his hold on her throat.

"OK." She agrees, chasing his touch, still pushing her neck into his hand.

He gets her hint, holds her there still and silent a few moments longer. At length, she relaxes back into him, pulls herself away from his hand as she sinks her head back onto his shoulder.

"That was – yeah." She sighs, less than coherent.

"It was." He agrees, matching her.

They stand there a handful more seconds. He can feel Clarke trembling lightly, and he wonders whether that's exhaustion or the slight chill in the air. He tugs her clothes back into place, then simply folds his arms around her middle, hugging her tight and sharing all the warmth and support he can.

He decides that maybe he ought to have a go at speaking first. Maybe she's still nervous, or trying to wrap her head around the idea he might buy into her fantasy, too. Maybe this is an opportunity for him to make her day by taking the lead in a difficult conversation for a change, just as he so recently rocked her world by taking the lead in their sex life.

"I'd like to try more stuff like that." He whispers. "I want to be able to look you in the eyes, next time."

"So you're – you're into it too?"

"I am now." He agrees easily. "I'm sorry it took me a while to answer you this morning. Honestly, it wasn't something I'd thought about much. I guess my attraction to you grew out of those times in the dropship when you were trying to boss me around, so I hadn't really considered us flipping that in the bedroom."

"We don't have to do it all the time." She rushes to assure him. "We can try playing different roles depending on what mood we're in."

"Yeah. I – I'd like to try this again, definitely. And we could try other stuff too."

She nods, her head still leaning on his shoulder. Her hair brushes his neck as she does so, and he lets out a little happy sigh. It's odd, this – he didn't come, there. But he's feeling strangely satisfied, like he has shared in Clarke's pleasure.

He's surprised when she breaks the silence. "I think that's partly why I like it – what you said just now, about me always taking charge on the ground. I like the idea that I don't have to do that all the time any more. And I like being able to surrender control and trust you to take care of me."

"I get that. I like taking care of you." If there's one thing he is certain of, it is that.

"And you do have really good arms." She concludes with a light giggle.

That's it, he decides. That's her telling him that the moment has passed, that he can let her go, now. He loosens his arms, but instead of pulling away altogether she just turns in his embrace and snuggles in for a more conventional hug.

"I'm sorry I kept running. I've never really had a steady relationship before, never had anyone to explore new sexual ideas with. I was worried I'd scared you off." She murmurs.

He presses a kiss to the crown of her head. "It's like that for me, too. I guess it can make me nervous, but mostly it's just awesome." He explains, laughing self-consciously.

"I can agree with that."

If he'd been told a year a go, or a month ago – or even a day ago – that the best sex of his life would be ten minutes in a storage closet without him even coming, he'd have laughed, he thinks. But he realises his mistake, now. All he needs for the perfect sexual experience is to feel and hear Clarke's satisfied sigh. And for a storage closet, this place has pretty great acoustics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And maybe think about voting in the Bellarke Fanfic Writers Awards - I hear they've not had many people voting in the early rounds and are hoping for more participation!


	3. Chapter three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zou asked for a threesome for Christmas so... here's a threesome, I guess. Kind of. Please note that this is an established couple inviting a friend to join their sex life for an evening, not an actual throuple. Sorry to disappoint if you were hoping for that. And if you don't like Echo, please don't bother telling me that in the comments. Tis the season of love and understanding, and all that. Happy reading - and happy Christmas if you celebrate it!

Bellamy likes sex. He's always liked it, ever since he first started fooling around as a teenager. But never in his life before has he loved it quite as much as in these last few months with Clarke. It's not just that their sex life is passionate and heartfelt. There's more to it than that, a kind of playfulness and desire to try new things. He genuinely would describe it as something of a hobby of theirs, to experiment in the bedroom.

That book really has served them well.

So when her birthday is approaching, asking whether she wants to try anything new out of the book seems like an obvious choice. He's sort of expecting her to choose something fun, like spending a whole afternoon in bed and seeing how many orgasms they can manage in a row, or else her asking whether they can take their experiments with bondage a little further.

He's really not expecting her to ask for a threesome.

"A threesome?" He repeats back, puzzled. He sort of thought that monogamy and mutual adoration were kind of their thing. Why does she want someone else to join the party? Is he not satisfying her? He was so certain she was as happy with their relationship as he is. All at once he feels himself spiralling, all the insecurities of watching her walk away from the gates of Camp Jaha or choose Lexa and Polis over him coming back to haunt him.

"Yeah. Just to try something new." She says, shrugging. "I know you've had one at least once and I guess it sounds like a fun experience."

OK. Maybe he can deal with this. _I guess it sounds like a fun experience_ is not exactly _our relationship is falling apart_. But all the same, he's still at least a little confused.

"But – but we're OK?" He checks, earnest, reaching out to hold her hand.

She frowns for a moment. His heart leaps into his throat. And then, to his relief, she gives a broad smile and breaks into giggles.

"Of course we are. You didn't think -? I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have just thrown it at you like that. Have you read that chapter of the book?"

He shakes his head. He never saw much point in reading that part. He thought his threesome days were firmly behind him, was only interested in sex with Clarke.

"Maybe you should?" She suggests. "It explains how having a threesome or a four-way or whatever doesn't mean you don't love your partner. It's just about having fun trying something different for a change. It's not like I'm suggesting we replace all our sex as a couple with it or anything."

"So it's just a fun change. Just trying something new." He echoes.

"Yeah. I'd still be yours." She says, with careful emphasis, knowing how he likes it when she embraces his possessive side. "But if you're not into it that's fine. We can try something else. I don't need a third person to have fun in bed when I've got you." She says sweetly.

He nods slowly. He can see that she's speaking sense. It's just been a bit of a shock to his system – he inherently associates group sex with his rather wilder dropship days, and thinks of himself as a guy who's settled down into a monogamous relationship, now.

"Maybe I'll read that chapter." He says cautiously. "Just hypothetically, if we did go for this – who would you want to join us?"

"Echo." She says, without a moment's hesitation.

As if she's already thought about the possibility.

No. No, he mustn't allow himself to get insecure about this. Didn't she just say that this doesn't stop her being wholeheartedly _his_? That this is a fun new sexual experiment, rather than anything deeper? Just because Echo happens to be tall and slim and stunning in a fierce sort of way, a bit like Lexa was, doesn't mean anything at all.

But really – _Echo_? Could she not have chosen literally anyone else?

No. She probably couldn't. There aren't that many of them up here, are there?

"Not Raven?" He asks, although he already knows what her response will be.

Sure enough, she laughs. "Bellamy. You had disappointing sex with her one time and she's like a sister to me. No way would we ask Raven."

Yes. Well. It looks like he has a chapter to read and a lot of thinking to do.

…...

He reads the chapter. He thinks a lot. And meanwhile, Clarke keeps being Clarke as if absolutely nothing noteworthy has happened. She keeps sharing a bed and a life with him, by his side almost twenty-four hours a day. Their sex life continues to enthral him – they dabble in a bit of tickling, of all things, and really neither of them is that thrilled by it but it's a fun way to pass the time.

But more than anything, he takes note of the way she continues to be every bit as devoted to him as he is to her. She was clearly telling him the truth – there's no dissatisfaction with their relationship here. She genuinely does just think a threesome might be a fun way to spend an evening. And really, he decides, it would be a bit foolish if he let his insecurity stand in the way of Clarke having a fun birthday treat.

So that's why he seeks out Echo. If he can get through this conversation, he figures, the actual threesome itself should pose no awkwardness by comparison. He doesn't really hate or mistrust Echo these days, not with the heat he used to dislike her as an enemy on Earth. He trusts her to behave sensibly and appropriately and even generously if she should join their sex life for an evening. But they're still far from close friends, and although he fully agrees she is the right person to ask, he's not much looking forward to the awkwardness of posing the question. It's an odd one, because he used to be confident about speaking to the kids back at the dropship camp and inviting bedmates back to his tent, then. But he thinks this is different because he always knew he held the upper hand in those days, whereas Echo seems determined to subvert his expectations in their every encounter, more or less.

"Echo. Hey. Do you have a minute?"

She nods, beckons him into her room. He stands on the threshold, hands clasped at his hips, and wonders how to go about asking the question he came here for.

Screw it. Best to just be honest and approach it head on.

"So – this might be a surprising question. How do you feel about threesomes?"

She narrows her eyes at him slightly. "I like them well enough as a concept. I take it there's a reason you're asking me that question?"

"Yeah." He swallows. "Clarke suggested we try it. Just as a one-time thing, you know. Just a bit of fun. We wondered if you wanted to join us one evening."

He's not sure what answer he's expecting. Perhaps just a simple _yes_ or monosyllabic _no_. Echo does not waste words, in his experience.

What he's not expecting – but what he gets – is a short but full laugh.

"Thanks, Bellamy. Thanks for making it clear _four times over_ that this is a one-time thing. Like anyone who's ever met you and Clarke could think any different."

He grins, somewhat painfully, feeling rather sheepish. So now Echo is laughing at him but she hasn't answered his question. The laughter is maybe a step in the direction of a more genuine friendship, he hopes at least.

"Sure. I'll join you for an evening – why not? But on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Raven _accidentally_ hears us talking afterwards about how great I am in bed."

This time it is Bellamy who laughs. He never expected two whole laughs out of this conversation, and he thinks that's progress.

He thinks, too, that maybe he's right to trust Echo to help him make Clarke's birthday a lot of fun.

"You've got a deal." He says easily, holding his hand out for Echo to shake.

She takes it without shyness or hesitation, and with a slight smile. He even finds himself smiling back, more or less. This conversation seems to have gone better than he dared hope.

…...

Clarke's birthday rolls around, and he makes it clear that she's to expect a sexy treat that evening, but beyond that he leaves her in suspense. He thinks it's best that way – Clarke likes it when he puts her on the back foot a little during sex sometimes, just playfully, if it's something he already knows she's into. She likes to feel like he's in control.

She likes to _feel_ that way, even though they both know she's really wearing the metaphorical panties in their sex life a good deal of the time.

So then, when the evening draws on and the appointed time arrives, he takes her hand and starts walking her towards the door of their room.

"Where are we going?" She asks.

"Down the hallway. Echo's waiting for us in one of the spare rooms." They did a little planning together, he and Echo, and decided it was best that way. As long as they use a neutral spare room, no one has to feel uncomfortable about being invited into anyone else's private space.

Clarke stops dead for a moment, right on the threshold, stunned. And then all at once she's smiling, reaching up to kiss him on the cheek, squeezing his hand hard in reassurance.

"Thanks, Bellamy. I didn't think you would go for it."

"I wasn't sure at first. But I read the chapter and gave it some thought, and here we are." He says easily, wandering down the hall. Now he's seen Clarke's excited reaction, that's all the confirmation he needed that this really is a great idea.

"And you're saying you did ask Echo?"

"Yeah. She's very up for it. And I guess we've chatted a little about how it's going to work. We're thinking I'll call the shots if that's OK? Seeing as I've done this before. We all know you'll end up taking charge to some extent anyway, but -"

"But it's a start." She finishes the sentence for him, smiling widely. "Go for it. Sounds good. You know I like it when you show me who's boss."

He snorts. "You like it until you decide _you_ want to be boss." He teases. "Anyway, Echo seems pretty chilled about all this. She said the only thing was she'd rather not take a cock anywhere but her mouth."

Clarke nods. She's smiling widely, practically bouncing on her toes as she walks. She seems really excited, and on the one hand Bellamy's happy to see that. He's glad that the birthday treat he has arranged and will be delivering with Echo is so thrilling to her.

But on the other hand, he's also feeling a teeny bit insecure about it.

No. That's silly. This is going to be great.

And honestly? She looked even more excited when they first got together. Or when he first told her he loved her. He knows their relationship means a lot to her, and this is just a fun extension of it.

They arrive at the correct room, knock at the door and enter. Echo's standing next to the bed, looking supremely calm about this whole affair. Bellamy really does wonder what's going on behind her eyes, sometimes. Has she had a thousand threesomes before now? Is she really totally unaffected, or just a phenomenally good actress?

Whatever the answer, he's certain of one thing – she's a friend now. She's been kind and good-humoured about this whole thing, has been eager to help arrange for Clarke to have a good time, and now he's heard her admit to being interested in Raven he can see it in the subtle ways she tries to take care of their mutual friend. In short, she's a good woman when she's not on the opposite side of a war, and he has to admit that she's pretty attractive, too.

And again he tells himself – this is going to be great.

Echo greets them. Clarke says a couple of words back. Bellamy nods, silent.

He turns just a little, sees Clarke raising a brow at him. This is it. This is his cue to get things rolling.

"Honestly, from personal experience, this will be simpler if we all just undress ourselves." He says, with a slightly stiff chuckle. "We can still make it fun and sexy – take it slow, put on a bit of a show, whatever."

It's Clarke who dives in first, naturally. The words are scarcely out of his mouth before she's tugging her shirt over her head, revealing a worn but pretty cute blue lace bra. It's nothing Bellamy hasn't seen before, of course, but it's a beautiful sight all the same.

But the sight of Clarke shirtless is nothing compared to the sight of Echo blatantly checking her out, eyes wide, cheeks a little flushed.

Bellamy grins, feels his cock thicken slightly in his pants. For the first time since they started planning this event, he can honestly see himself getting truly engaged in this. He was always determined to have fun and be a generous lover for Clarke's sake, and out of tentative friendship towards Echo, but now he's seeing a whole new angle to this idea. He's seeing it as an opportunity to show Clarke off, to be proud of how downright sexy she is, to share her awesome skills in the bedroom and then smugly take her home for himself.

Is that wrong? Is it selfish? As long as Echo went into this knowing what she was signing up for – which she definitely did – it's all fine, right?

Echo's the next to start undressing. Matching Clarke, she whips her top off over her head. She's wearing a serviceable black bra, and her toned stomach ripples slightly as she undresses. Bellamy finds that he prefers a rather more curvy figure, since he met Clarke, but he has to admit that Echo's long, lean limbs and perky breasts are pretty hot. He's certainly not going to have any problems performing, here.

He knows it's his turn now. He takes his shirt off without self-consciousness. He wants to get onto the good part. But all the same, he doesn't miss the somehow proud look in Clarke's eye when she watches him toss his shirt behind him.

It's trousers next, each of them in turn. Clarke kicks her shoes off hastily when she realises she's maybe done things in slightly the wrong order, and that has them all giggling cheerfully. It breaks the last bit of nervous tension in the air, leaves them all more relaxed and ready for what comes after.

So this is it. The girls are in bras and panties. Bellamy's just in his boxers, a slight bulge in the front of them that he sees no sense in concealing. A pair of hot half-dressed women and the promise of good things to come will do that to a guy. He has to admit that now he's in the moment he's feeling far more curiosity than insecurity. Sure, he's had a threesome before, but that was all about two girls showering him with attention and petting his ego. He wants this to be focused somewhat on Clarke, and to be a more all-round generous sort of a deal, and that makes it new and exciting.

To his surprise, it's Echo who reaches for her bra clasp first.

"I'm guessing you two have already seen each other naked." She says lightly, tossing her bra aside.

Bellamy chuckles a little. Clarke smiles, blatantly checking out Echo. Bellamy can't blame her – Echo's now hooking a finger into her panties and tugging them straight down her legs, leaving her stark naked in the middle of the room. Clarke rises to her implicit challenge, strips off the last of her clothes until she's facing her, stark naked too.

It takes Bellamy's breath away. Honestly, it does. He's seen Clarke naked a hundred times or more but it always catches his interest as if it's the very first time. And today that's heightened by the way Echo is checking out Clarke, and Clarke is checking out Echo, yet still peeping at Bellamy every so often as if to ask permission to be checking her out.

That's it. That shows him where he needs to take this next.

"Do you two want to get started together? I'd love to watch for a bit if that's OK with everyone."

He honestly does want to watch more of this – the tension of two hot women checking each other out and testing their attraction, as well as the pride of knowing he gets to take Clarke home with him when all's said and done. But there's also the fact that this seems like a practical approach – it gives him a couple more minutes to relax and feel more confident in the situation.

There are nods all round. Echo steps forward. But then Clarke darts towards Bellamy, presses just one swift kiss to his cheek.

Huh. That turned him on more than it probably should. It felt like more than a cheek kiss – somewhere between a declaration of love and thanking him for giving her his permission to go play, all at once.

Then the two girls start kissing, start touching, start moving together as if they've done this a thousand times before. But strangely it stirs no insecurity in Bellamy – only an overwhelming rush of arousal, and the feeling that he's pretty honoured that they're happy for him to watch this, that they don't feel creeped out by having him act the bystander for a little while. And it doesn't help his heart rate that Clarke keeps shooting him these little coy glances. She'll cup Echo's breast in her palm, then dart her eyes up to meet his gaze over her shoulder. She'll go in for a long, filthy kiss, then blow him a kiss out of her palm in turn. It's like he's not just watching them play, but playing with them, even though he's not touching either of them at all.

It's not long before his hand sneaks into his boxers, before his fingers wrap around his hard cock. He wonders if Echo might touch it later, might jerk him off with those strong hands and well-muscled arms. He wonders if Clarke might suck him off while Echo watches, gets herself off to the view of just how perfect they are together.

The two girls seem to be changing things up, now, as Clarke whispers something into Echo's ear. Typical. He should have known that she'd end up taking charge sooner or later. And then Echo's lying down on the bed, Clarke hovering over her so they're each mouth-to-crotch on each other.

And of course Clarke has arranged this so she's the one facing towards him, her eyes peering up at him, filled with false innocence and gratitude and outright lust.

He shucks his boxers and steps a little closer to the bed. He's still toying gently with his cock. He's watching Echo writhe under Clarke's expert touch, watching Clarke switch between using her fingers and her mouth and both at once.

And then Clarke is sitting up, backing full onto Echo's face in kneeling. She looks absolutely stunning, proud and taller than her short height, breasts bouncing out in front of her. She's kneading Echo's small breasts in her hands, starting to pant out short little gasps of pleasure.

But then it gets even better. Then she reaches out a hand towards him, silently invites him to join the party.

All at once, he realises that's just what he was waiting for. He was just standing here, touching himself, building up the tension until Clarke would invite him to join in. So he closes the distance between them, reaches for her hands and her breasts and as much of her as he can touch all at once. He pulls her in for a deep kiss, tastes Echo on her tongue. Huh. That's much hotter than he expected – the idea that he's been sharing her, but now he gets to have her back for a while.

The angle's not quite right, between Clarke being short and the bed being low, so he switches it up. He kneels by the bed, and she sits a little lower on Echo's face, and it works out much better. He takes one of Clarke's nipples into his mouth just the way he knows she likes, tugs gently, hears her give a loud moan. He knows her, and he knows that sound. He knows she's going to come soon if he keeps this up.

He puts the brakes on things. He eases away from her breasts, and ducks down to get his mouth on Echo instead. Maybe it's to thank her for what a good job she's doing with Clarke, or maybe it's just because he genuinely does love going down on women. Either way, it's interesting to get his mouth on someone else for a change. She's quieter than Clarke, doesn't give her feedback in words or groans. But he can feel from the changes in her breathing, from the way her legs shake about his ears, that he's doing a decent job.

And then Clarke grabs at his head, fists her hand in his hair, and presses his face more firmly towards Echo, and he could swear he nearly comes all over the floor.

It's just a lot, OK? He's always got off on Clarke taking the lead, on her bossing him around like she used to when he first noticed her back at the dropship. So to have her tugging at his hair to shove his face at another woman's pussy is a lot. It feels like the ultimate display of her sexual power, in this moment.

She doesn't hold him there for long. She starts whining louder, starts tugging his head up towards her in turn. He goes with it. He loves it when she tugs at his hair, both because he likes her to take the lead but also because he knows she really finds his hair hot. And most of all he loves the way it looks when she's finished with him – like a badge he will wear for the rest of the day to show the world that Clarke has had her way with him.

So now he's got his mouth on one of Clarke's breasts again, and his hand on the other. He knows she's close to coming, and he's not sure whether he wants that for her. He knows she's usually done once she's come once, and isn't sure if she wants her birthday party to be over so soon.

He lets go of her nipple just for a few seconds, just to check.

"You want to come now?" He asks her softly.

"Yeah." It's more groan than word.

He gets his face back on her breast, feels her tug a little more at his hair. He figures that must mean no one is giving Echo's breasts any attention, so he takes his free hand down there to help her out. He knows she said she was happy with having someone sit on her face, but he doesn't want her to feel neglected.

When Clarke comes, she does not come quietly. She presses her face into the top of his head, groans so loudly into his hair he can feel her breath tickling his scalp. And he can feel that it's a long one, too, as she goes totally still under his touch.

Then she's done, climbing off Echo swiftly, clearly still enthusiastic to get on to the next act.

He's maybe a little surprised at what happens next.

"Can I suck your cock?" Echo asks him outright.

"Yeah. Sure." He wonders if he was supposed to phrase that in a way that made it sound like he's still taking the lead, or whether things are just all moving a bit more organically now they're more comfortable together.

"Thanks. I've not had one for a while and I figure I might not for a long time if you give Raven that good report." She says, grinning a slightly wolfish grin.

"You're welcome, I guess. Thank you."

He gets himself arranged on the bed, leaning up against the headboard. Echo gets onto all fours between his legs, grasps his cock in her hand.

He gasps slightly. He has to admit this is a little odd. It's been a long time since anyone other than Clarke got him off. But it's overall a good experience, and he's looking forward to more. He thinks it'll be fun to check out Echo's rather different physique while she sucks him off, see the muscles working across her toned shoulders. It's an experience he wouldn't miss, if he only ever had sex with Clarke, but he doesn't see the harm in enjoying this for a change.

"In that case I'm going down on you, Echo. This is probably my last chance to eat pussy for the rest of my life." Clarke jokes, apparently unconcerned by the idea.

Bellamy gulps. He hadn't thought of it quite like that. He knows that Clarke's it for him, and he's made that clear to her, and she feels the same way. But to hear it phrased quite like that in the middle of sex is going to his head – and to his heart.

"Never say never." His voice comes out sounding throaty. "We could always do something like this again some time if everyone's into it."

Clarke looks up at him from the end of the bed, eyes wide. He can practically read what she's thinking – her surprise that he's saying that, given he wasn't at all keen on this idea to start with. But it's growing on him, OK? He's almost sure this will bring him and Clarke closer together, certain that it has confirmed the strength and depth of their relationship. And Echo's pretty objectively attractive and fun in bed, so he's not complaining.

Echo misses the fact that they're having a little moment, and that's fine. She can't read his mind in quite that instinctive way Clarke can, and he figures that's only to be expected. So she takes him by surprise, licking up the length of his cock.

Right. Yes. Blow job. And a good one, if that confident first stroke was anything to go by.

Sure enough, as she gets into it, it's great. Although she's slim, she's built on a slightly larger scale than Clarke, has a longer neck and can take him deeper down the throat. Again, it feels odd because he's not used to that, now – but not in a bad way at all. She switches between a few deep thrusts into her mouth and sets of firms strokes with her hand, and it's good. It keeps him hanging, close but not quite coming, teetering on the brink.

But the best thing about this? Clarke, without a doubt. It's the way she keeps peering round Echo's toned hips, peeping up at him as if checking that she's doing OK. As if asking for his permission or approval, as if they were playing one of their games where he's got her tied down. Or maybe just checking in with her best friend and love of her life, wanting to know that he's still there and still having a good time.

Most of all, it's the tension of having Echo between them like this. It reminds him of the months and months he wanted Clarke but felt he couldn't have her, the crazy suspense of waiting which has made their relationship all the sweeter, now. It reminds him, too, of something he read in that sex book of theirs. A little sentence about group sex, and how the real joy of it is taking home the partner you really love at the end of the night.

He starts planning. Maybe it's wrong to fantasise about what he's going to do when he gets Clarke home, while Echo is right here on his cock. But if everyone's having a good time, he's not doing anything too awful, right? He starts thinking of carrying Clarke home down the hallways, her legs locked tight around his waist. Of getting her home and throwing her down onto the bed and burying his face in her pussy and making sure her last orgasm of her birthday is with him, thank you very much. He knows it's not going to be easy, knows it tends to take her a while the second time round, but he's more than up for the challenge.

He glances down. Echo's moving faster, now, her hand stroking the bottom of his cock while her mouth works the top part. He holds her hair back from her face, sees her cheeks hollow and her toned arms flex and yes, it's a lot, and yes, he's close. He can hear her breath coming in short gasps, knows that she's close too. His Clarke is doing a good job, and he's proud of her.

So that's why he looks up. That's why he tries to smile at Clarke, although he's certain it comes out as more of a grimace. And she's there, her breasts hanging low over Echo's hips as she fingers her. She's raised her head from going down on Echo just long enough to smile up at him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as if she can't get enough of watching him made happy.

And then she nods. Just the slightest, barest nod.

He's there. He's falling apart, spilling inside of Echo's mouth. Damn it, but Clarke really does have him wrapped around her little finger – in the best possible way.

Echo pulls away and rocks back onto her heels when he's done, smiling a tentative smile. Clarke rearranges herself a little, tips Echo over the edge with her fingers while fondling her breasts. And again, he feels that glow of possessive pride, apparently undented by his substantial orgasm.

A sort of comfortable silence falls. Echo looks a little more relaxed and smiley and human than he's used to seeing. Clarke looks her usual stunning self.

"Are we calling it there?" He asks softly.

Two nods. Two smiling, flushed faces looking back at him.

"Great. Thanks so much for being up for this, Echo."

She laughs. "Thank you. Good sex and doing friends a favour? What's not to like?"

Clarke smiles at her. "Yeah, thanks. You really know what you're doing."

Echo waves a hand. "Save it for where Raven can hear you."

And again, the slight awkward tension dissolves into gentle laughter. Bellamy has to admit that he's got to know Echo better today – not because you can gain great insights into a person's mind when they have their head between your legs, but because she's been such a balance of steady good humour and pragmatism in these potentially awkward moments before and after.

They all get dressed quickly, but without rushing. Clarke and Bellamy leave first, slipping out of the door before the sweat has even dried on Clarke's neck.

Huh. Can he lick that off in a moment? Is that a thing?

The moment the door is closed behind them, he lifts her up. He doesn't make a big show of it – he simply hoists her up by the hips, positions her so that she's obliged to put her legs around his waist.

"Bellamy? What are you doing?" She asks, giggling softly.

"Taking you home and making sure your last birthday orgasm is with me." He says.

OK – maybe he _growls_. But the point is, he gets the words out.

She gasps a little, presses her face into his neck. "That sounds good."

"Yeah? I don't mean to be an ass about it. I just – that was hot for me in a weirdly possessive way among everything else."

"I get that. You know that part near the end where Echo was between us? The tension that I had to wait to get my hands on you? That was doing things for me." She says easily.

He grins against her hair, tries not to stumble while he carries her down the hall. "Yeah, me too. Great minds think alike."

"What about the rest of it? Was it OK for you?" She asks.

"Yeah. Honestly, I had a great time. I was much more comfortable than I expected."

"It was great to see you relax and have a good time." She murmurs.

"Hey. It was supposed to be _your_ birthday present." He chastises her.

She laughs. "I know. It was pretty great. I like going down on women so that was fun to do for the first time in a while." She presses a kiss to his neck. "More than anything it reminded me that you're it for me. I don't miss eating pussy anywhere near as much as I'd miss _you_ if we weren't together."

"Yeah. I think it made me even more confident in us."

She doesn't respond to that in words. But she does respond by tightening her legs around his waist, and Bellamy feels his cock jump to attention at the possessiveness of the action.

Huh. He literally just came a few minutes ago. And that plan he was fantasising about earlier mostly revolved around getting Clarke off, but now he's starting to wonder whether he might be good to go for another round, too.

When they arrive back at their room, Bellamy sort of wants to kick the door open. He figures that would be dramatic and decisive and powerful and so on. But it turns out that's also impractical, so he faffs with the door handle with one hand while he keeps Clarke balanced carefully with his other arm.

It's a good job she's got her legs wrapped around him like she'll never let go.

That's what gives him the new idea, in the end. He gets them into the room, flicks the lights on, and kicks his shoes off.

And then he walks to the bed and just sits on the edge of it, still holding Clarke tight.

"We're going to sit here like this and you're going to ride my cock." He informs her, gently tugging her shirt off over her shoulders. "That OK for you, Clarke? I'm going to hold you tight while you get yourself off on my lap."

"Mhmm." The humming noise she makes is over half way to an actual _purr_ , he's pretty sure. She sounds blissfully happy with the idea.

He undresses her carefully. It's a little awkward doing all this sitting down, and at one point she has to tip sideways slightly to help him get her panties off. And it's even worse when he tries to shimmy out of his trousers with her kneeling over him. But at last they're there, skin against skin, holding each other tight as she slides down onto his cock.

She doesn't rush this one. It has none of the fizzing urgency that marked the earlier part of their evening. This is just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, as Clarke slides herself slowly up and down in his lap.

"You doing alright?" He asks her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Perfect." She answers without missing a beat.

He's not about to argue with that. He tilts her chin up, kisses her deeply. It's a bit difficult and messy while she's riding him, but she slows down even further to focus on the kiss. She still tastes a little like Echo, but she tastes a hell of a lot more like Clarke.

"I love you." She whispers against his lips.

"I love you too."

He pulls away from the kiss, presses his forehead against her neck. He sort of remembers intending to break the kiss because he planned on kissing the salt off her neck from that sweet sheen of sweat earlier, but now he's here he's not sure he's got the control to do that. He's somewhere between about to cry into her hair and about to come into her pussy and he's not sure which is winning out. It's just so much, holding Clarke tight in his arms and whispering words of love while she makes love to him so tenderly.

"You doing alright?" She asks him in turn, because that's how it is with them.

He gasps out a laugh. "Yeah. Think so. This feels incredible."

"You always do." She says, as if it's as simple as that.

Even when she starts moving faster, she keeps it gentle, somehow. She's still brushing tender fingertips over his cheeks, tangling her hand into his hair not to tug on the curls, but just to cradle his head.

"Hold me tighter." She begs in a whisper.

He does. He squeezes more firmly where his arms are wrapped around her.

"Tighter." She begs again.

He thinks he knows what she needs. He adjusts his grip, takes her upper arms in his hands and presses firmly, just so his nails are digging into her soft skin slightly.

That's it. That's her breath changing rhythm, her legs growing tense around him, her hands tightening into a fist in his hair. And then she's coming, pressing her face into his neck and sighing a long, loud sigh.

He doesn't rush her. She's still sitting through the aftershocks a good couple of seconds later, still clenching and unclenching around him. When at last she's collected herself, she starts moving again.

"You don't have to." He protests on instinct.

"I want to. I've got you." She promises, moving a little quicker.

"Could you slow down again, please?" He asks her softly. "I liked how... intense it was before."

She doesn't make him ask twice. She's moving slowly, holding him tenderly, pressing soft kisses against his neck. She's scratching gently at his scalp, urging him to rest his head on her shoulder.

So that's how he comes. He comes with his neck bent low, face pressed down into her shoulder, Clarke around him and against him and underneath him, his whole world narrowing to the feel and sound and smell of her.

There's silence, when they're both done. A peaceful silence marred only by the noise of their breathing growing gradually calmer.

"Best birthday treat ever." Clarke whispers, pressing a kiss to his earlobe.

"This or the threesome?" He asks, teasing.

"Both. The perfect combination."

Yes. He can certainly agree with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
